“Everything is a game,” The Counsellor replied placidly, “Life and everything in it”

“I’m talking about a computer game,” Chance said. “Is this some sort of full body immersive VR?”

“Do you remember entering something like that?”

“Well, no.”

“So there you have it,” The Counsellor stated, as if it was all settled. “We are simply engaging in what I said we were going to do, a little bit of role-play to help you out.”

“I had thought you’d meant of the kind that the theatre nerds do, you know, acting, not some weird fantasy thing like the geeks do.” And not one so realistic ether, as it looked and felt, sounded and smelt real. If it wasn’t real, what was it?

It could be still some form of game, he wasn’t discounting that, but not of the variety he played. Sports games, bro shooters, that was what he played, not some fantasy RPG. He’d seen the occasional one, run across streamers playing them, but they had never been in his sphere of experience; his general reaction was to laugh at them.

Still, what little he had seen was enough to know that he’d been saddled with something that was not at all to his liking. “A dwarf, though? Come on, you saw me before; a short, smelly, ugly creature is not me. You should have made me an elf.” Even his limited understanding of the genre left him knowing that elves were tall and graceful and good looking, like that one on in the movies. It would have been a much better fit for him.

The Counsellor shook his head. “An elf? No, no. There are reasons why that wouldn’t be a good idea. Not a good idea at all.”

“Why not?” Chance demanded.

“All in good time.”

That was no answer; he could tell the man wasn’t going to elaborate further though. “And a druid? That is one of those tree hugging hippy types, isn’t it? What is that one that sings? A bard, yeah that's it. I can sing, impress the chicks and look good doing it.”

“This is a better fit for you,” The Counsellor explained.

“I don’t agree with that,” Chance growled.

“Well, what is done is done and can’t be changed.”

“How do I get out of here? Do you just switch if off, or what?”

“Nothing like that. It is a simple thing really. You must win.”

“Win what? Like some type of quest?”

“In a manner of speaking, you could say.”

“So what is this quest then?” Chance demanded to know. Trying to get any answers felt like pulling teeth, being both slow and painful.

“That you have to discover for yourself. You need to go out there, to explore, to find, make your way, all the while staying true to your persona.”

“As this dwarf druid thing you mean?”

“Yes.”

Chance gritted his teeth. “No clues at all then? You are just going to kick me out there with nothing? This isn’t going to end at all well.”

“Considered it a learning experience,” The Counsellor encouraged. “Just try not to die, okay?”

“What happens if I do? Just reload at a previous save?”

“Let us just say that it is better if you don’t.” The Counsellor picked up one of the parchments from out of his pile and passed it over the table to Chance. “You will need this.”

“Why?” Chance asked as he picked up the parchment.

“It is all about you, and all that you encounter. Keep it on you at all times; you will need it.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Chance looked down at the parchment; as he did, words crawled across the surface of it, forming a message.

Name: Chance Craghand

Race: Dwarf

Class: Druid (Initiate rank)

There was more after that, stuff about stats and affinities, powers, skills, knowledge. It was a character sheet on the parchment, one that wrote itself, that much he understood. It didn’t make much sense to him and he didn’t much care about it either; perhaps a gamer nerd might have been into it, but as far as he was concerned it was just more stuff that had been forced on him that he didn’t want.

For a moment he considered tossing it aside. The more he knew, the more constricted he was going to be in what he could do.. He wasn’t sure how The Counsellor would take that though - not well he guessed, so he held on to it. For the time.

There was one thing thing on it that did catch his eye, one of the powers that was called Stone Shot. It sounded like it might have some promise. Even as he looked at the words, the parchment changed on him again, the character sheet dissolving away into details on the power.

Power: Stone Shot.

Attack: Close

Damage: Low

Required Stats: Body 1, Mind 1.

Required Affinities: Earth, Nature.

Power Source: Primal.

A practitioner of the primal arts is able to conjure a small stone and project it at a nearby enemy at high speeds.

It was not quite what he had imagined; he had hoped that it might have something to do with a type of gun. This seemed like some form of magic though. He seemed to recall, from old fairy tales and the like, that dwarves were meant to be good at crafting. Perhaps if he described the concept of guns to them they could figure out how to make one for him. At least then he would have a real weapon, if needed, not one of those lame swords or axes. He had no idea how to use them; if he had known it was going to end up like this, he might have joined the fencing club one of his schools had offered.

A change came over the parchment again as he grumbled to himself, the information on the power fading and more words crawling across it in its place

Quest: No Place Like Home

The old druidic site of Azval Stalvaq has fallen into disuse and ruin. Now that Nergezur the Ravenous Maw has been slain, Azval Stalvaq is once again free. Should it be restored and the focal points again made active, it should prove a valuable resource in the fight against the Elen Talese.

A tutorial zone. That was what he was in. There was always a tutorial zone in shooters, explaining the basics of movement, cover, stealth, shooting, that kind of thing. It stood to reason that other games might have them as well. So he was to get to know the basics, kill a few easy enemies, that kind of thing.

“Who are these Elen Talase?” he asked. By the sounds of it they were the enemy he was going to have to go up against.

“The Shapers of the Wild,” The Counsellor told him. “Those who torture the forests into forms more pleasing for them.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Chance grumbled, “But fine. Let's get this all over with, okay? I’ve got this dumb quest to do, so show me the way.”

The Counsellor rose from his feet, a mysterious, knowing smile on his face. “Follow me,” he said.

As Chance stood up, the desk and chairs faded away from view, like a mist melting beneath the sun, leaving just the forest glade behind. The Counsellor strode off, heading along a small path that led into the forest, one in which golden beams of sunlight shone down upon at various points along the way. It wound away among the trees, moss growing thick around them. Old roots stuck up out of the ground, while rabbits ambled out of the way at their approach and the butterflies continued to swirl around. Other forest stuff happened too. Chance wasn’t exactly the outdoors wilderness type, so how was he meant to know any of this stuff? How was he expected to be a druid of all things. As he had already said, he was the wrong fit for it. He knew that a tree was a tree, but what type was beyond him. Dumb game and its dumb choice of class.

As The Counsellor strode on ahead, Chance found that his short legs had to work overtime to keep up. Despite almost having to half jog to match pace, it was oddly not all that tiring. The stout body he had been forced in to might be slow but it didn’t seem to tire all that easily. That, at least, was something. Being able to keep going all night without having to pop a few energy drinks along the way could have its uses.

The sound of running water reached their ears as they walked, and the path soon came to a small brook that bubbled along through the forest, the clear waters running across a bed of sand and small, smooth worn pebbles. The path followed alongside the brook for a while before, ahead of them, Chance saw a hill rise up out of the forest. There was a cave entrance in the side of the hill and both path and stream led into the cave.

“Behold, Azval Stalvaq,” intoned The Counsellor. “Your new home.”

Chance looked at it with a great deal of scepticism. “I’m to live in a cave?”

“It is more than just a cave,” The Counsellor told him. “It is a source of power for druidic magic, as well as being underground. Perfect, in fact, for a dwarven druid to live in.”

“Yeah, except I’m not actually one. You may have somehow forced me into the body of one, but that is where it stops. My mind is still my own, and it isn’t exactly happy with the idea.”

“You may change your mind. Come on in.”

Chance signed grumpily and stamped towards the broad cave entrance. Nothing he saw inside was going to change his mind.